


Home Early

by imgoingtocrash



Series: Pepperony Week 2019 [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Coitus Interruptus, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Life Can Be Sexy, During the five year gap, F/M, Mid-Endgame, Pepperony Week, Rated M For Third Base Appropriate Terminology and Actions, Tony Stark Adores His Wife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 05:51:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20130391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imgoingtocrash/pseuds/imgoingtocrash
Summary: Now, though, he's a married man, and his three year old daughter is sleeping peacefully in the next room over. The only person that should be waking him in the middle of the night with eager kisses is Pepper, and she’s—He opens his eyes, finally, and looks up to a familiar reddish-hued blonde head of hair draping down to touch his chest when he turns up to be flat on the mattress. "Hey," he says, surprised and too sleepy to come up with a better response in the moment.Pepper comes home early from a business trip and surprises Tony in bed, but things don't exactly go as planned.





	Home Early

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Pepperony Week Day 3! I made a gifset instead of writing a fic for day 2, which can be found [here](https://imgoingtocrash.tumblr.com/post/186778726094/pepperony-week-2019-day-2-quoteslyricstill-the).
> 
> This takes place during the five year time jump in Endgame. They’re married and in love and parents, and that’s all very sexy. Obviously by the writing, I’m filling the “nsfw” prompt, here.
> 
> Enjoy!

Tony wakes up to the feeling of warm kisses being pressed into the back of his neck.

Many years ago, this might have been his preferred way to wake up. He may have gained a reputation for Pepper kicking women out of his home back in the day, but he was rarely one to say no to round two when he and his partner were both awake and willing.

Now, though, he's a married man, and his three year old daughter is sleeping peacefully in the next room over. The only person that should be waking him in the middle of the night with eager kisses is Pepper, and she’s—

He opens his eyes, finally, and looks up to a familiar reddish-hued blonde head of hair draping down to touch his chest when he turns up to be flat on the mattress. "Hey," he says, surprised and too sleepy to come up with a better response in the moment. 

She was doing business in Italy, last he knew. She'd been called away for a few days, which had turned into a week, and then almost two. It was rarer that such things happened now that they had Morgan, but business was business, and Stark Industries was Pepper's other baby. She’d saved SI from Tony's hands and raised it into something all her own (even though, technically, she’s also now also a Stark herself).

Tony has been texting her intermittently (mostly pictures of Morgan being adorable) and video calling every night so that Morgan can say goodnight to her mother. It’s not his favorite system—if it were up to him, she'd be able to work entirely from home like he does for Stark Industries' R&D department—but they make it work like most busy parents do for their children.

Pepper's smile at Tony's reaction is short of devilish. It's _definitely_ sexy. "Hi," she replies. Seemingly coming into awareness with his body, he realizes that Pepper is essentially straddling him. Without any more preamble, she returns to her earlier motions of running her mouth over the available sections of his bare skin. He's wearing a tank top and thin pajama pants, so most of what she's doing is focused on his neck and chest.

Her tongue pokes out of a kiss to his collarbone, making him shiver. She's so warm, and she's home and—her teeth follow, somehow taking care to be gentle despite literally biting his skin. He breathes in sharply.

He moves his hands to her hips. She's still wearing a blouse—the silk ripples around her breasts and reveals the top of her chest in a quaint little v-shape—but her pants or skirt or whatever the hell she was once presumably wearing when she came through the door is probably off in their hamper at this point. Maybe on the floor if she'd been impatient, which seems to be the case.

He traces her stretch marks, following them from her hips around to her ass—inconsistent and rippling like lightning raised across her skin, a sign of childbirth and age, marks that she's still alive and here with him when everything else in their lives has been aiming to kill.

It's harder having her away, because of thoughts like that. Wondering if despite his retirement, despite Thanos' death, if the next disaster is immanent. Isn't that why he still has suits, after all? Isn't that why he's been working on one for Pepper as well? It's his usual compulsion to create, yes, but it's the anxiety of more loss, too.

She notices the moment he gets lost in his head, in the dark places he's tried so hard to escape after everything that's happened. "I'm right here, honey." She removes her face from his chest and sits up, cupping the back of his head with her hand. Her thumb catches the shorter hairs at the back of his neck, the nail scraping just a bit. _You can feel me_, the action says. _I'm real._

He nods. She's grounding him, always steady when he's erratic. This is his wife, the person he pledged his life to long before they ever exchanged vows at the lake, just outside of this house. 

"I've missed you, Pep," he freely admits. Voicing thoughts like that used to feel too soft, too honest. Now such things are all he's suited for. This world around them falling apart, people they cared about gone...he's putting his exposed heart on the table for Pepper. It’s the most important thing he’s got left to give her.

"I missed you too, Tony." Pepper sits in the silence with him for a moment, stroking his hair more fully from front to back, entangling her fingers in the strands he’s allowed to grow longer. She takes special care to wipe her thumbs across the crow's feet near his eyes. It's a sign of aging and a hit to his vanity, but neither of them expected him to live this long. Pepper seems to cherish every line and grey hair on his head, as he does hers. 

(Sometimes, though, he looks at her and purposely tries to see the young woman who waltzed into his office and practically assaulted his security guards with pepper spray over a tiny accounting error. He’s known her for so long, now, and never wants to forget the way her hair escaped her bun the more animatedly she argued with him, her off the rack suit and Payless brand shoes, the way she’d told him off and stood up for herself at a time when no one else was willing to. Maybe, in buying that engagement ring early, past-him hoped that one day he’d become this: a better man to match that indomitable woman.)

Pepper leans in again, and this time Tony meets her, capturing her top lip between his own. He presses his hands more solidly into her hips, supporting her position against him as their kiss becomes more heated than before. Her hips lean into his crotch sharply, and he lets out loud enough of a grunt that they both go dead still.

Morgan sleeps through the night pretty well now that she's no longer a baby, but much like Tony, she doesn't want to be left out of anything. She wakes up at the lightest of noises—the TV being too loud, their laughter exchanged in the kitchen, Tony slamming equipment around in the garage workshop—and insists that she be included until she eventually falls back asleep where she sits. They’re just lucky Pepper is practiced at coming home without making a sound after so long dealing with this specific issue, or they’d have had Morgan’s attention much earlier.

However, there’s no telltale squeaking of Morgan's box springs. No whining for her parents to come check on her. No alert from FRIDAY that their child is in distress.

Tony shrugs for them to continue just as Pepper moves her hands down to start removing his shirt. A quick study, his wife. He doesn't bother removing her top at first, just teases her breasts through the material of her bra under the blouse as she drags her own fingers up and down his now bare back. 

Pepper hums appreciatively at his kneading, though, and it urges him into wanting to return the favor from earlier. The silk material of her top is light, and it comes off over her head without struggle. Her bra is removed with a quick tug at the clasp—it’s the same black cotton as her underwear, Jesus. She's always been so put together, and he's obsessed with how some elements of that leak into their daily lives—their clothes hanging together in the closet so that certain outfits match, their favorite coffee mugs always at the front of the cabinet, her morning routine and his synchronized like a dance. 

He loves that parts of her are arranged just so and how it’s all his to appreciate when she's under his hands, when every piece of clothing and pretense of who the media thinks they are falls away and they get to just be Pepper and Tony: husband and wife, lovers with the kind of lengthy history and friendship that never makes a silence awkward, a day of routine uninteresting.

He takes a moment to half-bury his face into her chest. The sound of her heartbeat under her warmth is ten times better than any sound machine on the market. He keeps his lips there, against the strength of her pulse, sucking a red spot into her skin just low enough that most of her tops will probably cover it. (Not that he really cares much if it does show other than to avoid Morgan pointing it out. He’s going to convince Pepper to stay in this bed and at home as long as possible.)

Tony’s taking his time with her, though, and this all started because she wanted him as soon as she walked into the bedroom. She's moved her fingers down to his sleep pants, lightly stroking at him through the fabric as she removes them, baiting him to hurry it up.

"Impatient, Miss Potts?" he asks, his own thumb running back and forth between Pepper's skin and where the lip of her underwear rests below her belly button, going down, down, down to edge his fingers against her slit.

Pepper hums with pleasure as if giving in to his attentions, a contrast to her hand going under his boxers and palming his cock. Oh, she knows_ exactly_ what she’s doing, enjoying his toying fingers and working him just as coy in return.

He grins up at her, a little shake to his head that’s playful and so, so pleased that she matches him tit for tat, that their sex varies from soft to playful in a handful of seconds depending on the mood.

Just for that, though, he pulls away from her, taking her slight pout in stride and using her looser grip on him to flip Pepper underneath him. It’s a position that only sometimes works out—his arm has never quite healed from the repeated abuse, and it can be hard to keep himself above her for too long on his worse days. Thankfully, he doesn’t necessarily need to stay above her for long.

He’s gotten his fingers against her underwear—this time angling to actually pull them off and assess how long he can keep her going with just his tongue and fingers before she comes, which will both please her and make her fuck him harder in retaliation for getting her off track of her original intention—when there’s a noise.

No, not just a noise, it’s FRIDAY, breaking through the blood rushing through their ears, their skin, beating against their sex. This kind of interruption had thankfully never been an issue back with JARVIS, and he’s considering installing a sex-related silence setting that he’d assumed was _implied_ when FRIDAY states, “Sorry to interrupt, boss, but Morgan is at the door. I locked it for your privacy, and she’s taking her Fisher Price tools to the problem.”

Tony buries his face into Pepper’s so-close-to-naked torso with a groan. “If Romanoff has been teaching her lock-picking, she’s a dead woman.”

Pepper flops back into their pillows. “Why couldn’t she have a loud, noticeable tantrum like a normal kid?”

Tony and Pepper exchange a familiar look, lamenting that they’re both pretty peculiar people and normal was probably off the table the moment they threw their genetic codes together.

“I’ll get her,” Pepper says, tapping at Tony where he is now completely lying against her. He doesn’t want to move. He’s stupidly hoping Morgan will give up and head back to bed if he hides away and gets back to trying to eat Pepper out. “Seriously, move.”

“She’s not getting waffles tomorrow, I’ll tell you that.” Pepper snorts at him. The clicking sounds of their doorknob being assaulted by plastic children’s toys becomes more clearly audible. “Don’t mock me, Potts, I’m enforcing the law for attempted breaking and entering, here.”

“Yeah, you’re a regular hard-ass.” Pepper pats his head as she says it, clearly patronizing. It would sting if it wasn’t obvious to them both that Morgan’s had him since she first wrapped her newborn hand around his thumb.

Tony rolls himself off of his wife, lying on his back with a huff. It’s not his daughter’s fault that she’d interrupted their moment, but it’s no less an interruption of the mood all the same.

“We’re not done,” Pepper asserts, giving him a firm kiss and a pointer finger that commands him to stay until she returns, which he’s not going to argue with. “No sleeping.”

In the time he’s looked away, she’s covered herself with his tank top and sleep pants. It’s not any of her sexy lingerie, but it warms him all the same, the same way it used to when they were first dating and she stole his old MIT hoodie so that she could be warmer while in nothing but her underwear.

Future pleasures promised, Pepper goes to address their daughter at the door with a playful, un-police-like “Freeze!” that makes Morgan squeal with delight at seeing her mother and ignore the command to wrap herself around Pepper’s legs.

(When Pepper takes Morgan around the corner to convince her back into bed, Tony actually does doze back off, but Pepper wakes him up with a far more firm tongue into his mouth this time, and all thoughts of sleep are back out the window, to be dealt with in the morning.)

**Author's Note:**

> Is it technically smut if they’re interrupted and 90% of it is just Tony Stark loving and admiring his wife??? Who knows, but I’m a smut with feelings gal, so that’s what I’m calling it.
> 
> If you enjoyed this, be sure to check out my other upcoming stories for Pepperony Week! All kudos, comments, etc. are super appreciated!


End file.
